


Take care of you

by wtngrapture



Category: Oasis (Band)
Genre: M/M, Moex, Riam, life in the 80s used to be better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2018-11-14 02:30:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11198586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wtngrapture/pseuds/wtngrapture
Summary: Sleeping there, with the face of an angel who wouldn't hurt a fly, he thought he could ask him about it, maybe.





	1. Part 1

That day, specially, he wish he hadn't arrived home so soon. Actually he wish he had gone out  generally, only if that way he would've avoided dealing with the upcoming circus act. He looked at him out of the corner of his eye raising his eyebrows, wanting to show him how, totally, definitely unimpressed he was, before what Liam thought was like Roman's victory against the Carthaginians. It wasn't clear enough if Hannibal was his mother, the job, the job's boss or the world in general, which abused him as the teenager he was. 

And indeed, he knew Noel was looking at him, just because of that his emphasis on explaining his everyday tragedy became exaggerated, and even whining. 

—I've got to wake up every day at 6 in the morning.

—That's what your mother's been doing her whole life and it hasn't killed her— said Peggy.

—It hasn't killed anyone.

—You shut up man!— he shouted, opening his eyes wide like he had seen a ghost—I basically have no fucking life! When I check out I'm knackered, I'm too tired to go out there and live a fucking life like everybody else does. 

—That's not true Liam! All your mates have a job, and all of them are happy and going out in the weekends, like every person...

—I'm not "every person"— he imitated his mother's voice with an insufferable pretentious little cunt tone. His face adopted an arrogance grimace and he pronounced the words slowly, vividly gesturing. Then waited for an answer, chest swelled and  both hands resting on his hips—Pathetic— Noel hissed. Perhaps the real pathetic thing were the butterflies in his stomach when he stared at Liam's profile. Hoping he wouldn't notice. 

—You're more pathetic, the pathetic drum carrier. The sad brown-noser, the poor arse-licker, the...—

Sadly he couldn't get to hear the last words he said as he left the room. He would rather fuck off, you know, somewhere else where Liam's voice didn't drill his brain (and chest). As for Liam he fucked off as well, slamming the door as strong as when he had come in. Peggy sighed, but remained sitting.

Hours later, sitting among his best friend and a wall, Noel kept thinking about the butterflies, Liam's profile, the drill on his chest and the sweating hands. The first thing, he basically blamed it on his rubbish based diet. Because if a 12 pm breakfast that consisted on instant soup with cigarettes and lager doesn't give you a stomach ache, well, nothing else will. It was either that or the sour milk in his cuppa, he couldn't tell.

—Had you ever seen a slower waiter in your whole life?— Clint asked without genuine interest in Noel's answer, in hopes of start drinking as soon as possible.

—Dunno.

—No? Sure?

Gallagher lifted up his head to look at his friend in the eyes.

—Maybe that time in Leeds.

—Ah yeah. That time. 

The drill in his chest was nothing short of a huge reason for him to want to be deaf. It was hard. Even harder when everything happened at the same time, his body ached as a whole, his voice trembled and a whisper inside his brain went "what kind of game are you playing?". Noel didn't choose to play, he had seen himself involved on something that his lower instincts had developed without his control.

—I love boys— he said.

—Oh that's lovely. We love you too.

—I love lots of boys—Noel clarified—Love them, their face, their body. What you can do with them. I love that it's so different compared to women. It's like, you could get your friend and fuck him, and everything would be ok cause you're just lads having a good time!

—No compromise. 

—Exactly— the young roadie smiled like he had just heard a gleam of brilliance.

—I love lots of boys. So, that must be like, hormones. D'ya know what I mean? Hormones.

—You're 22 years old— Clint giggled at that thought —Your one-track mind. That's what it is about.

—Well, I'm not a fucking pervert, see.

—Is' not that...

It was that. And Noel knew it. But he'd rather call it "just a phase". It'll be over one day, sure.

In fact, he just needed to take a look at the place they were at. If he had started agreeing to go to those places, it was because Clint loved it there. He was in his element, with anonymity guarantees and a quite comfortable comprehension vibe, especially in such city where everybody knows you.

—Do you remember that one time you almost took a bloke home?

—Man. I actually ended up in his house—explained Noel scratching his head. 

—Yes? And how was it?

—Quite good, a good shag. I'd repeat.

Of course, when he said house he meant car. Its backseat, to be honest, while someone sat on the driver's seat listening to Joy Division and telling them to shut the fuck up. It wasn't a good memory but also none of Clint's business.

—Let's see how lucky we're tonight, then.

—Let's see.

Clint was very lucky indeed. Always going on about how the fame ruins a lot of things for him, bullshit. He just needed to be recognized by one person and the general interest increased a 2000 percent.  Noel glanced at him standing in the corner of the local, where everyone cornered him, blinking an eye. Did that mean he was invited to join the party? Weirdly enough he preferred to stay alone thinking about his butterflies, sitting in the bar, taking it easy.

  
  


—Hey mate, have we met before?

—What, you and me?

Behind his gin & tonic, the roadie stared to the person behind the bar, whose voice had driven him out of his daydreaming.

—I'm not sure we know each other.

The waiter grinned slyly, he leaned his palms on the bar in an affected, subtle movement and tilted forward on Noel's direction. Noel arched his eyebrows and smiled back, sipping on his glass.

—Wait. Of course, I knew it!—the boy's face turned from uncertainty to happiness—You're Liam Gallagher, you're mates with Richard right?

—Richard? Who?— he almost broke the glass when he put it down—Oh yeah, Richard! Yes, my mate Richard, haha.

—How's he doing?

—He's doing brilliant. How are you doing?

—Can't complain man. It doesn't get too crowded on Thursdays so I'm getting by.

—I see.

—So, you came on your own?

Noel took a quick glance behind him, to the corner where Clint presumably was—Yeah, actually.

—I don't think Rick is coming this evening... he'll be working tomorrow I guess.

—Well, I just came for a drink though.

—You know what? My turn finishes in around 30 minutes. Why don't you stay here and we go dance afterwards?

He fondled his chin with his thumb, like he was actually doubting—Ok.

\----

 

He wasn't completely sure how to, but he was definitely skipping the dance part. The not so professional waiter had payed him a couple more drinks while he waited,  but he still wasn't bold enough. He also took his time to examine the guy: not too short, not too tall, had a thin waist that Noel appreciated through the white fabric of the cotton shirt. He moved around the different locals like a specie who moves around its terrain and Noel sort of found that sexy. And his smile, it made you want to pay him twice the price for his drinks (despite that little crooked fang). Noel rated him an 8.5 out of 10. That's utter high on Noel's chart if you consider he rated himself a 6, but let people think he was a 9. Obviously he kept some things for himself.  

However, Max (probably Maximilian, but he decided not to ask) had already started dancing and Noel felt his feet stick to the ground like plumb. 

—Don't be such a bore Liam!— Max shouted and pushed him onwards by his shoulders.

—This is really not my thing.

—Yeah fuck, don't try to fool me. You're not the type who doesn't dance just'cause you don't know how to. 

Noel made a big effort to avoid the thought of his brother dancing, either if he knew how to or not. He, instead, let the boy pull him closer, until he was close enough to surround his waist with his arms. Max smiled again, like he never stopped, and their faces remained inches apart from the other while they bopped to the rhythm of the music. 

—Do you like games?— Gallagher asked. His partner drew further and nearer every once in a while, as he kinda taught Noel how to dance, while the latter tried hard not to show he was tired of that teasing. 

—I'm not answering to that pervert shit.

—It had no pervert context.

And out of nowhere, Noel was grabbing his ass. The other boy laughed, and felt a rush of self esteem all of a sudden. His partner didn't like dancing as much as he remembered, but he was as forthright and committed to him as you might wish. He wanted to develop the action with the minimum amount of formalities and foreplays beforehand. Max got more and more cornered and clustered and he got to stare in Noel's blue eyes, half-closed and blurred, quite difficult to read. He took a sharp breath, having heard much about Liam Gallagher's eyes but realizing they were a lot more different than he had thought. To be fair, whoever had described Liam to him before misunderstood a lot of facts. 

Noel rubbed his cheek with his nose's tip, and whispered something he didn't hear before kissing him. 

\----

When he woke up, the last thing he expected to find was a middle-aged woman, with a pile of dirty clothes on her arms, wishing him good morning.

—Good morning—he babbled trying to display a decent face.

—Is this yours? 

The lady took from the heap's top some checkered pants, and swung them above Noel's face

—Ah... yeah. They are mine— Noel nervously chuckled.

—You want me to wash them?

—No, no, thank you very much.

—I really don't mind.

—No, no, no, no. Don't worry about it.

—Mornin' mom.

Max tossed under the sheets and rubbed his brown eyes, smiling sweetly to his mother. She bent down to softly pinch his cheek.

—Got to go to work now honeys, have a good morning— said the lovely woman before crossing the door —Maxime, should I get you something to eat?

—Yes, please!

Eventually the mother left leaving behind her an uncomfortable silence. Noel managed to slip inside his pants without leaving the bed.

—Maxime?

—I'm half French.

Laying down on Noel's chest, the waiter started playing with his hair, eternalizing the smile of his lips.

—You know, I just don't let everyone spend the night around here.

—That's flattering— he sighed —Though your mother looks pretty much used to it.

—She's going to tell me off later. Want some coffee?

He nodded his head and the boy with the blond hair jumped of the bed. It was so blond now that he had seen it in the light of day, so fucking blond and curled and messy. Even his lashes were blonde. Those glasses could invite him for coffee every day.

Max sit him down beside a window in the kitchen, which was too small even for two persons. He hadn't even bothered wearing anything apart from his shirt, and Noel admired the sight every time he stood on his tiptoes to grab something. He thought Liam could've reached the top drawer without any problem. Also, Liam would be still in bed while he prepared the coffee for him. He would drink it there, and make a mess on the sheets because he is too lazy to even sit up. The thought of it made him giggle.

—What's so funny?

—Oh, nothing is funny— he shook his head with resignation. Max blew a bit into his cup before handing it to him. 

—So you and Richard aren't really nothing, right?

—Richard who?

—Liam—he rolled his eyes up to the infinite—Richard! Rick, our friend, we were talking about him yesterday!

The worst thing was that Noel collapsed every time the boy called him Liam. It took him a few seconds to react, about to shout to his face that, it was definitely impossible he kept confusing them in full daylight. But his subconscious was faster than him.

—What are we supposed to have?

Max's eyes sparkled and he bit his bottom lip, crossing his fingers in a malice gesture —Well, last time I checked it really looked like you both were going for something.

"Something" sounded like it had quite a lot of meanings for Gallagher. 

—Explain.

—You fucking know Liam. Everybody thinks you are dating him.

The roadie choked on a sip of coffee. He was pretty sure his face was all red. Was he really a protective brother who needed to act in that moment? He indeed was, full time. He imagined Liam would rage crazily if he knew some cunts were spreading rumours about him.

—So it's that, we are dating?

—That's what I thought.

—Well, here is some news: we are not.

The younger boy's jovial attitude came back to its full extent—You are a free man then Liam?

—Liam is a free man. A very young man. He doesn't know what he does.

—I don't get it.

—What I mean is—he shook his head like that was going to bring him the words to use—that he ain't dating anyone 'cause I would know it. And who the fuck is that Richard again? I know everybody he knows, and I've never...

—What? —Max crossed his arms stepping some inches apart from the confused man— Who the fuck are you?

Noel stood quiet for a millisecond. Then, some mechanism on his brain got activated and, almost as an involuntary act, he decided he needed to go to his house.

—Look... gotta go. See you later— he said and, at least before going, he gripped Max by his shoulders and left a quick kiss on his lips, that went off a bit more passionate than he had planned. He wasn't even very sure why he was doing so, but that was all he had to say goodbye, it was a good night, have a nice day. It felt like a nice see you later kiss. As for Max, he thought doing nothing would've been less offensive.

Anyway, he needed fresh air and oxygen coming up to his brain, to plan what he was going to do when he got home. As soon as he was on the street, street that, by the way, he had never been at, he bought two bottles of water and stuck them into his coat's pockets. 

Max's house was a 5th floor little apartment in the middle of a suburban street, so far from the center of the city it didn't even have an underground stop. This way, it took him around forty five minutes to arrive to his own suburb, where the only thing that broke the silence was his neighbour's mower growling like an agonising cat.

Contrasting with all that, the circus of his house didn't have a closure time. Having drunk one and a half bottle of water, his hangover treated him good enough to keep his head from exploding with the toot of the teapot  that nobody was taking care of.

His room appeared as a much more peaceful place when he came in. Liam slept (thank God), stretched and fully dressed-up on his bed, while the vinyl's player needle scratched the sweet notes of Something. They beat along with Noel's light footsteps, who approached the bed careful not to wake up his brother. He kept trying to put that Richard a face, remember where he could've seen him, or how did Liam know him, or why, and also why did Liam frequent the same pubs he went to. Considering the reason why someone would want to visit them.

Indeed, his brother had never mentioned anything about that. And he was a very honest young man. 

Sleeping there, with the face of an angel who wouldn't hurt a fly, he thought could ask him about it, maybe.

—Being a comprehensive brother, that's what it's all about— he said out loud— like mom says. Talking about everything to little shit.

Standing right there he wracked his brains, while Ian's brown deformed face on Liam's wrinkled tee stared back at him. Suddenly, Liam's hand scratched the Roses' frontman's mouth, right on his belly, and he yawned. Noel almost fell to the floor.

—You're fucking awake? Seriously?

—Take pictures if you want to, they'll last longer—he hissed indifferently. Noel kicked the floor and snorted, like it was someone's fault that he had embarrassed himself. He left the room mumbling curses at Liam.

—I heard everything! —the kid yelled— E-very-thing! —he emphasized. Noel was already going down the stairs, so he had to sit up to shout louder—You absurd looking cunt! — he crawled on the bed cracking up until he was breathless.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> —By the way, who the fuck is Richard?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is with embarrassment and a huge amount of boldness that I publish this second chapter 5 months after the first.  
> Since I've got no proper excuse to justify myself, I will just say that I've literally had zero time to sit down and write properly. I had almost most of this chapter written by august but I did never add a proper conclusion to it, and I didn't want to upload anything that I thought wasn't worth reading.  
> Also, this fic was originally meant to last two chapters buuuuut... I changed my mind about the ending and it will probably take a way longer development of the story until I get to it. So yeah, I have no idea how long the fic is going to be, I suppose I will find out with the time as I always do :')  
> Anyway, I hope everyone who reads/is still reading enjoys it a lot (and kinda forgives me) annnnddd that's it! <3 I swear the next one won't take me half as much time hahaha *runs away*

Part 2

—Mam, did you know...? —the younger sibling, wearing his striped black and white sweater, took a spoonful of soup in his mouth—that Noel wants to be a comprehensive brother with me?

—I'm impressed that you know what comprehensive means.

—Yes I do. It means you're a massive poof.

—Liam! — exclaimed his mother— But that is so beautiful! You shouldn't harass your brother just because he wants to be nice to you.

He bowed his head down and remained eating. Playing with the spoon trying to join all the needles together in the centre of the plate..

—So, you finally didn't go to work this morning.

He pretended not to hear Noel.

—What are you doing from now on? Sticking around home playing my records the whole day? 

Still not an answer.

—Maybe you wanna sign up to go to fucking college.

—By the way, when you finish listening to something, get the vinyl back into its cover, because later I find all of them fucking scratched.

—I always do it! —Liam finally whined.

—No, you don't! Because you're a fucking disaster!

—Piss off— in a fit of fury, Liam kicked the table's leg, making it tremble, and once again he went out of the house dumping everything that was on his way.

—You know what's his problem? — Noel said, explaining what no one has asked—his problem is that he is a fucking nut case. When he doesn't understand something... he doesn't face it. Just walks out.

—What's what he doesn't understand? — Peggy asked trying to shed light on the situation.

—He doesn't understand why would I want to help him with anything, cause he thinks he's got it all under control. But the truth is- he fucking doesn't. 

—Are you sure about that?

—Absolutely—he gave his mother a condescending gaze— he is like an open book to me.

 

The uncomfortable silences between him and Liam came back. The silly banter felt for both of them like a real, ultra seriously offending fight so, the rule now was pretending that the other didn't exist. Liam generally just tried to get on Noel's nerves.

"Hey"

"Hey cunt"

....

"Are you literally fucking deaf?"

It never worked. Just made Noel stand up and find another place where Liam couldn't show up at any moment. He started spending his days with Clint. They were supposed to be taking a break off touring, no work's chat, no fucking about with any instruments or new songs. But apparently Clint couldn't get Noel to appear in his house without that worn-out guitar of his under his arm.

Gallagher stretched then on Boon's small bed, with his boots still on, and spent the whole afternoon putting chords together while his host watched old 60s films on TV. Clint ended up moving the bed to the living room. Advantages of living alone.

—Ideal of fun, right? —he asked, in the peak of one of those afternoons. It looked like Noel had finally arranged some kind of melody, and babbled words which suited it.

—Yeah.

—Definitely.

—What do you suggest we do instead?

—Your fringe's grown too long— he lifted his head up with both hands— I'm gonna get you a new haircut.

Clint skilfully used the sharpie scissors blunting Noel's bangs, sitting on his knees between his legs. Noel let him do so without asking what was in his mind.

—You know I love you around here. Lots.

—Yes I do.

—But what happens in your house? They kicked you out?

—What? No, of course they...

—You wanna talk about Max?

Noel raised his eyebrows. Clint had used too much of an innocent tone.

—How do you know about that?

—Everybody knows about that.

—Who is everybody?

He cleaned the rests of cut hair of his shoulders, brushing and blowing it— Everybody. They told me he confused you with Liam and you were as much of a prick as to not tell him you wasn't.

—He was doing my head in with all the Liam, Liam... —Noel smirked and tried to remember everything. The memories of that night were still blurry. Something went back to his mind again: that Richard. The infamous Richard. He hadn't forgot about it at any moment, though, it still took a lot more of his thoughts than he would like.

—By the way, who the fuck is Richard? 

—What happens to you man, suddenly you don't know anyone? — the keyboardist snorted and sit behind his back this time, fixing his nape's hair.

—He's that bloke who used to sell pills to the kids down Levenshulme. He said to me he's got employed now at a bikes workshop so he doesn't need to do that anymore, the cunt. Anyway I know he's gay 'cause a friend of mine watched him in the pub. Would never thought that me, would you?

—And do you know what has that guy got to do with our Liam?

—With Liam? Clint reached for a mirror on the table and handed it to Noel. His bangs now neatly only tickled the points of his ears—Nothing I suppose. Hey Noel, give that Max a call. You look quite ready for the action now—he leaned his chin on Noel's shoulder, grinning.

\-------

His brother had those dreamy eyes. He took long and melancholic drags of his cigarette, laying languidly on the mattress like he was made of plasticine. He hummed to the song on the radio depressingly, long sighs coming through his lips every now and then. 

Noel turned around on the desktop's chair to look at him. Liam returned the gaze quickly, looking back to the ceiling on the instant and unhappily sighing again. He felt like slapping the sigh out of him.

Nevertheless, he ignored him. He remembered they still didn't talk to each other.

—Noel—Liam tossed himself lying on his belly, and hugged the pillow like a plush toy —I'm not happy. 

He turned around again to see his annoying mess of a brother. It was almost a bit cute. His bipolar mindset remained a mystery for Noel; this morning, you wake me up dropping your new football into my stomach, and now you're all sad cause I don't talk to you? Liam breathed heavily again. He was no more than a child.

—Why is that honey? —he asked with irony, but showing a bit of sweetness in the curve of his lips. He regretted saying honey right after.

—I think I'm in love—Liam spat.

He then properly rested his head down, still staring at Noel. Liam pouted and extended his arm onto his older brother's direction, as if asking him to come. His arm stretched long enough to reach Noel's thigh and lie it on it, and their hands entwined together, in a firm brotherly, reassuring grip. 

—That's not supposed to make you sad.

—But it makes me. It makes me cause I'm losing control over myself.

Noel heard the five hundredth sigh of the afternoon, and saw Liam's pupils enlarge and look at the infinite. Before leaving the room, he patted his back, didn't exchange a word. Then tried to remember where Max's pub was at.

\-------

It had been about fine. Max had served him an extra foamy beer, despite pretending he didn't know him the first 15 minutes he was at the bar. Then, he had for the second time introduced himself as Maxime, asked for his name, and told him he was cute. That there was something good about that haircut that he had never seen before.

And they met each other, and Noel complimented him as well. When Max's wide smile showed him each and every one of his teeth, Noel sort of wanted to know how kissing him would be. They tried to dance at Max's room. The two of them, no mothers this time, no brothers, alone, to Spandau Ballet. As Noel twisted his legs with the other boy's legs and his back fell on the bed, he felt the blonde curls tickle his neck and the hot tongue on his earlobe, and he wondered if the world really started and ended with Liam.

—Noel, do you know why I like you? — the boy asked with muffled voice, laying his head on Noel's naked shoulder, running his fingers along his arm. 

—'Cause you make me laugh. Nobody had ever made me laugh like you.

Noel just smiled satisfied.

—You must got a very simple humour then.

Max giggled again. He wrapped Noel's arm tightly and talked closer to his ear.

—You know what I thought? We could stay here, all comfy, and I'll make some dinner for us. And then we can just... have a drink, maybe. In me room. And see what we do later.

—Fuck! I had completely forgot.

—About what?

—Actually... Ourkid's alone at home, and I was supposed to get dinner for him. 

—You mean Liam? You can use my phone to call him man.

—Yeah, but you know how they are. Little brothers. Can't take a no as an answer—he laughed, and a slightly sad grin appeared on Max's face. 

—Come on, you're gonna leave me for your little brother? — he tried to joke— my house is alone the whole night.

—Gonna have to be another day—he complained and kissed his cheek— I'm sorry.

As fast as he had taken his clothes off, he wore them again, and rushed out the room with a feeling of embarrassment growing in both boys. Max stood biting his thumb, naked under the covers. Noel, on the other hand, had to walk the 45 minutes travel through Manchester again.

  
  
  


—Do you like italian for dinner?

—Always. 

—Yeah... I thought you preferred chinese.

Liam took an eager bite of his so called italian food, looking down indifferently. They'd laid the extra pepperoni pizza box on the floor so Peggy wouldn't find stains of oil later in the bed. Noel babbled about with his mouth half full of food, the younger run his tongue along his bottom lip too deeply lost in the conversation. Noel tried not to think about sexy things then. Yet, all that came out his mouth after witnessing that innocent gesture was a breathy gasp, then, a detailed description of how fit the waitress at the chinese place was, Liam approving every said fact with a firm nod.

—I have a thing for waitresses, did you know that? Argh... clean yourself. For fuck's sake—he wiped a bit of tomato sauce under his brother's mouth with his thumb. Liam licked his finger as he did so.

—Pig! — he shouted. Later he would ponder if that should turn him on or not. Liam's smile was the size of a half moon.

—Remember what I told you this afternoon? —he snapped then out of nowhere. Noel shrugged and stuck his bottom lip out, but asked him to continue talking.

—It's a weird feeling, it is. Y'know what I mean?

—Are you talking about being in love?

—Yes. I feel fucking... attached.

Attached.

Noel gulped down three quarters of his soda before talking again.

—Attached? You mean like... fond on them?

—I mean like fucking mad about them.

—That's just life.

—It's like being sick twenty four hours a day. There's fucking butterflies in my stomach. And my heart beats like it's gonna go... bang! And pop out of me chest— he mimicked the scene with his hands, simulating a huge explosion and drops of blood and fire that fell down the pizza box. His brother grimaced in between confusion and disgust.

—Why are you telling this to me anyway.

—It's not just that, it is... he is... doing my head in.

—Richard?

—Wha... Richard who?—Liam asked, looking at Noel with his mouth open.

—Richard. 

—I don't know any Richard, me.

—Fuckin' Richard Liam!—Noel yelled at the top of his lungs standing up all of a sudden, slightly scaring his little brother— Fucking him. Richard, he is, don't you know him? You've never heard about him? Fuck's sake, you must live in another city—he chuckled sick with irony. For one second, he considered if he was going truly crazy. That he might could’ve taken some drug that was more dangerous than he thought in the past, and the hallucinogens have melted his brain cells to a point of no return.  Then, he noticed Liam was stupidly grinning and felt like kicking the shit out of him. Of everything. And jump out of the window.


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brand new Liam was stronger and more skilled in the art of pissing him off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> errr....  
> I said I would be faster updating  
> and I was! :)  
> so: mission accomplished  
> PS: Happy New Year xxx

Noel looked the closest he had ever looked to have an anxiety attack.

—Calm down mate, I was just joking—Liam laughed nervously —Alright it is Richard. I was thinking about telling you before but… you know. You’ve been acting like a prick— he shrugged— Well now you know. So, I don’t really care what you think but, what do you think?

—Fucking shit Liam, you should have fucking said it since the beginning!—Noel grabbed his brother’s shoulder trying to push him around to face him.

—Why are you so angry?—Liam whined—You’re creeping the fuck out of me!

—Because, if it was Richard, and you knew I knew it was Richard, ‘cause I told you yeah, you shouldn’t have joked with it!— he shook Liam’s body a bit more aggressively than he pretended— do you think that’s funny? You all, all of you, are trying to drive me mental!

—You can suck my dick man— Liam got rid of his brothers grip, and bent down the floor. He started tidying up the room, taking all the food rests and paper tissues and throwing them into a bag.

—What are you doing?—Noel asked breathy. He felt like he needed a 4 hours long nap right in that moment.

—I’m cleaning me room.

—What for?—Liam took the paper glass he had just refilled with soda (in hopes of getting some welcomed sugar calories into his blood system)  and put it in the bag as well.

—Rick’s coming round tonight so, it would be nice if you fucked off to your man’s house or summat.

—Clint is busy today—the guitarist clarified— I’m not fucking going anywhere. And you’re not taking any fucking silly wanker here tonight. Not never. Now give me back my fucking glass.

—I don’t want to. And I can take whoever I want cause this is my fucking room.

— What the hell do you think you’re doing?— Noel managed to save a last pizza portion and shoved it into his mouth before Liam trashed it too—You tell me you’re in love, in bloody love with a bloke and right after you wanna get him here to shag him?

—You say it like it was some of your business.

—And you’re cleaning the room for the first time in your life just so Richie Rich’s arse feels comfortable?—he laughed sarcastically still chewing. Liam looked at him with fury.

—That was—he pointed directly at his face— a shit joke mate. If your man Clint is so busy, why don’t you go to the pub instead and tell Max you’re me so he gives you a blowjob in the bathroom?

Noel froze in place.

—How on Earth do you know that?

—Everybody knows that—Liam crossed his arms and dedicated to his brother a cheeky grin. The older thought he had a slight resemblance with the Cheshire Cat; he have always adored that cartoon psychedelic fella, he had watched the movie only because of him.

After that mind loophole millisecond though, he realised all his barriers were being demolished. It also struck him like a lightning that, nobody else but Max could have spread that rumour. That wasn’t exactly a rumour. He pondered who should die first, his brother for being a personified nightmare? Or Max for being a snake in the grass?

—Just so you know— he cleared his throat— he didn’t suck me off in the bathroom. He finished his turn and we left the bar, but I had to go pee before. It literally took me thirty seconds see, so it’s physically impossible.

—Yeah ‘cause you would’ve lasted ten seconds really.

—And also I didn’t tell him I was you. He confused us and that was it, but I told him later— his brother chuckled in disbelief, slowly clapping as Noel spoke— Shut up! These things wouldn’t happen if you didn’t hang out with half Manchester’s gay folk.

—Just ‘cause you say so! Your friends aren’t only yours cunt, I can be friends with them if I want to too.

Liam pouted still holding the bag in his hands. He handed it to his older brother without any previous warming, as a sign that it was his job to get rid of it, and started rummaging through his wardrobe. All that Noel did for the following forty minutes was observing how his brother tried on one hundred different shirts, and bathed himself in the content of half bottle of perfume. He sighed condescendingly. Or because Liam’s skin was so white. It looked white and smooth and it only turned slightly rosy around his elbows, his collarbones… his nipples. Noel counted each and every one of the tiny hairs that traced an elegant line down Liam’s chest. He could also clearly smell the subtle mix of the cheap perfume with Liam’s scent itself. The fragrance became fresher, stronger, boyish and sweet so he suddenly even felt the urge to take a small bite and taste it by himself.

The older brother always thought that Liam taking so much time to choose a shirt was something hilarious; all of them fit him. He made all of them look better.

—The red one or the blue one?

—Wait. Is that prick really coming?

—I told you.

Noel stood up from his bed ready to kick up a fuss. In that same moment, they could hear the doorbell sounding downstairs. Both brothers stared at each other. Liam let the shirts fall to the floor and rushed out of the bedroom shoving past Noel tripping him up. He fell backwards hitting his back against the footboard of the bed, but somehow managed to run after his brother like a strong devilish force was giving him the energy. He was wondering how could Liam run so fast after eating his weight in pizza.

He finally reached him in the middle of the stairs, grabbing him by his arms. His little brother swore at him all his catalogue of insults, which was not so short, and threw kicks into the air. He gripped Noel by his hair almost ripping out a handful of strands, while the doorbell sounded again and again. Finally, Noel slipped his way past and run down the few metres left to reach the door, panting and hurt everywhere. He gathered all his strengths in supersonic speed, breathed in, and opened.

The first thing his eyes saw was a black, worn out leather jacket zipped up to its top. He raised his head up and glanced at a dark, scarce fringe, that tried to conceal a head crown that was one day from going completely bald. Two thick eyebrows and a friendly smile greeted him, nevertheless grimacing with confusion, as if he wasn’t already used to see those brothers acting in the weirdest ways possible.

—Can I come in? I brought some pot.

—Bonehead what the fuck.

—What? Ok listen your brother invited me so I’m coming anyway, I don’t care.

Liam was cracking up on the stairs. Wasted, shirtless, red like a pepper, on the verge of tears. He had to sit down and lay his hands in his belly, coughing and sighing and just cracking up all over again. Although, he had to recompose and run upstairs when he saw his brother raise his arm to the air in  a “I’m going to smash your head in without any previous negotiations” position.

\--------------------------------------------

From that day onwards, after sneaking Bonehead into their room to smoke pot and talk about porn magazines the whole night, Liam became the most annoying, hilarious, confusing and creepy creature Noel had ever dealt with in his entire life. Every second of every day.

He even missed the sweet peace times when all his little brother did was insulting him repeatedly. When he used to sit in his bed being the angriest kid in the world, throwing to Noel’s head every object he found on the desk. Ripping apart his songwriting notes with no apparent method of selection. Hiding Noel’s favourite trainers up the highest cabinet of the bathroom.

That was all old Liam tricks. Brand new Liam was stronger and more skilled in the art of pissing him off. He was also subtle nevertheless. Now, instead of keeping the lights on and the music playing until late night hours, despite Noel had to work the following morning, he just smiled. When their glances crossed, he just grinned widely, sugary, and waved Noel a hand. The older brother thought he had eventually finished his conversion into a fucking idiot.

—I’m turning the lights off.

—Ok— Liam answered, smiling yet again.

—Could you please... hand me the water?

—For sure— obediently, he jumped off his bed and refilled the glass with thorough courtesy. He lent it to his brother, standing right beside the bed watching him drink.

—Are you done?

—Ah… yeah— Noel nodded, whilst the younger took the glass and put it on the desk again.

—I’m turning off the lights now… err… good night, I guess?

—Wait!—Liam exclaimed. He leaned his body close to Noel’s and gave him a kiss on the cheek, awkwardly prolonged, noisy, slightly moaning. At last, he wished his brother good night. The moan stuck in Noel’s ears for long days to come.

 

—Noel, you know what?

Liam’s voice sounded in the darkness of the room, some minutes after they had supposedly gone to sleep. The guitarist was unsure whether or not he should answer him.

—What?—he eventually hissed.

—Yesterday I gave me first blowjob.

Noel opened his eyes.

—That’s… that’s very nice.

—Wanna know who I sucked off?

—Your boyfriend I suppose?

—Oh yeah—he hummed, using a tone his brother had never heard before.

—It was alright.

—Nice Liam—Noel snapped—Very grateful for the information. Have a good night.

—Nighty.

 

That night, Noel had fucking thousand and five fucking one dreams. In the first one, Liam was laughing at him. He just laughed and laughed, screamed, pointed at his face and a word “ _idiot. Idiot. Idiot”_ echoed in the air. Then, he was in a living room. Clint’s living room he remembered, just slightly different. All the curtains were drawn and the couch was at least three times longer than usual, sitting in a row there was Paul, Bonehead, himself in the middle of everything crushed amongst his brother and Clint, Max and probably some other lads he didn’t know. The only light in the room came from the television. They were watching Lethal Weapon II, Patsy Kensit taking off her long black coat, exposing her naked perfect body for Mel Gibson to touch. Everyone around him got a boner that fast, everyone, unless him.

— _Richard! My brother can’t get a boner!  With Patsy Kensit! See? He is a proper…_

Fortunately, the alarm sounded before the product of his mind in shape of his brother could finish the phrase. Noel shook the confusion out of his head and rubbed his eyes, grunting. He looked at his right, Liam was eating cereal in the bed wearing nothing but his ridiculously oversized Manchester City pants. He winked an eye at him.

 

\-----------------------------------

 

Max wore a rose gold necklace, hanging on it were curvy letters that read the name Maxime. The pendant obviously wasn’t expensive, but for Noel’s liking it didn’t look tacky more than it looked corny, the girliest thing he had seen in his life. He also knew fair well, in some hidden corner of his mind, that it was details like that that could make him hard as a rock.

Ironically enough, what the guitarist didn’t notice was all the looks on that pub lying on him that afternoon. Everybody knew what he was up to, basically everybody. It had become some sort of a joke, internal gossip between the locals, that Noel Gallagher was shagging the waiter. People waited every evening for him to cross the pub’s glassdoor and take a seat on his tool of preference to watch the younger boy clean dishes and count tips. They smiled at each other every once in a while, people then went hysteric. Sooner or later they knew Max’s turn was going to finish and they were going to fly away together. Only then the whole bar could talk about it out loud.

—I’m out in five minutes. Gonna change me clothes and we’ll leave, ok?

Noel hummed a response watching the waiter slip into the pub’s store. For his surprise, they were clubbing and maybe sleeping at Max’s or, in case his mother appeared, they’d try luck at Clint’s. Because anyway. the keyboardist always looked far from annoyed.

He had promised to himself not thinking about Liam for a single millisecond that day. The kid was wearing fucking ugly pants so there was no place for any erotic thoughts. If he had been wearing sexy pants, he wouldn’t have them either, because he was totally over it. Not even for all the before-bed kisses. He started to build up some conversation with a chap who was sitting beside him, in order to forget the sound of his brother’s moaning pecks.

—You are Max’s boyfriend right?—the stranger asked with a strong Italian accent. He had made clear he was friends with the waiter and that was actually the reason why their conversation started.  Noel felt like bragging a little bit.

—Something like that yeah— he chuckled —he’s pretty isn’t he?

—Without a doubt—the guy grinned showing a row of white sparkly gallant teeth, that contrasted with his olive skin. He wore sunglasses indoors and styled his hair upwards, a bit too pretentious-looking for the guitarist, although he felt there was some cool vibe about him.

—Is that how all Italians brush their hair?

—Shit—the stranger looked out of the window and stood up quickly —Sorry mate I have to go. Missus waiting. I will see you again, right?

—Sure— Noel said cheerfully—We have a pending conversation.

 —I promise I won’t forget it!— the Italian boy  took some coins and a nice extra tip out of his biker’s pockets and put them on the counter—Can you tell Max this is Ricardo’s? Greet him for me!

—No problem. Bye Ricardo! — Noel waved a hand at him—What a nice lad— he told to himself—Ricardo— he repeated his name. He looked out of the window to watch his new mate wearing a helmet and turning on his bike. There was someone with him, sitting on the scooter's edge. They took off their helmet for a second to brush their soft, beautiful hair with their fingers.

He didn't want to give it credit, but that had to be Liam's hair. That had to be Liam's nut head taking his helmet off right before starting the bike. It was Liam's arms surrounding the biker's waist to keep the balance, Liam's legs clenching on the vehicle. Definitely Liam's horrible pant's waistband showing up below his jacket when he bent forward.

Noel burst out laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if these are really pants but they always looked like it to me lmao (also cheers for the lady pose) https://i.pinimg.com/originals/65/5f/8e/655f8ed61804df6aadaec37b865d0a5e.jpg


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because he was in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyo
> 
> so in case someone is interested in how Max would sort of look like in real life, I found (with help of my beloved friend-you know who you are- who also has made great contribution to this chapter and the fic in general, and is a personified ray of sunshine, so all pertinent credits to her) a boy that looks exactly how I had imagined him :')
> 
> here's his instagram acc, i think he is a Polish? model and well, yeah, if I had to put Max a face/body, it would be his, so here you are: https://www.instagram.com/maxbarczak/
> 
> (btw: yes his name is max as well, yes it was a coincidence)

_ Tender boy had always wanted a scooter. He used to be around the park, watch all those mod lads run down the street and across the pavement in theirs, wear all the cool parkas, forgetting about helmets. He wondered if they had all watched Quadrophenia and fallen in love with it just like he did.  _

_ He imagined one of those blokes suddenly parked his bike beside the bench he was sat at, unleashing a cloud of dust around them and a deafening roar of the engine. Their glances crossed and his own remained nonchalant, fucking not impressed at all, saying “I could ride that scooter ten times better than you do”. _

_ —You’re always looking at me anyway. Looks like you would like to try. _

_ —Yeah. _

_ Liam felt just kind of awestruck when he heard the Italian accent, brows raising up and corners of the lips arching in a devilish sweet grin, that caused the scooter boy to unconsciously jump off it and stand in front of him.  _

_ —Show me how to ride it man. _

_ —Wait. You said you already could do it ten times better than me.  _

_ —Yeah but never been driving one before so, you’ve got to teach me. _

_ The older boy laughed in disbelief. Soon he will discover Liam wasn’t taking the piss at all. He also would sort of regret, and at the same time adore, having agreed to teach him how to ride a bike from the first basic step. From how to even climb up to it. Liam was frighteningly close to send his vehicle to the ground into pieces a couple of times, and themselves to the hospital as well. Though, despite his colossal impatience and unease to let himself be taught, Richard managed to make him master the scooter in the end.  _

_ He got to press his body so obscenely close to the kid’s that, in another situation, it would have felt immoral, but in that context everybody could say it was completely alright. Talking close to the younger’s ear and almost getting to observe each and every one of the hairs of his nape raising up. Richard realised during those late summer evenings that he’d found a peculiar individual, and he was suddenly forced to deal with him as much as Liam wanted it to last. He had, definitely, encountered in his way the oddest creature of them all. And also, the brightest thing the city of Manchester had to offer. _

  
  


—He called my brother “missus”.

—Aham... That’s just Richard’s sense of humour— the blond boy sighed closing his eyes, and started placing fondle kisses all along Noel’s neck, in hopes of distracting him and avoid that conversation to happen once again.

—What kind of sense of humour is that? Is it supposed to be funny?

—I don’t know Noel. I don’t care— he smiled. His shirt’s collar hung low around his left shoulder, the skin pumped up in red for all the lovebites that will turn into bruises the following day. The guitarist’s hand still laid on his waist under the fabric, feeling warm and holding a tight grip of him, too tight to be out of affection more than it was out of nervousness.

—Sorry. I just can’t get it out of me head.

—That’s right. His brother lives in his fucking head. He owns it. Liam’s territory—Clint remarked, like he was talking to himself.

—Mate why don’t you go to sleep?

—Why don’t you stop doing your boyfriend’s head in? It’s even boring me—the keyboardist stood up from the sofa, yawning and stretching noisily—Max do you want something to drink? Tea? Soda? Coffee, gin, whisky…?

—What about that koktel recipe I gave you? Do you remember it?

—I will with a bit of help—Clint headed to the kitchen, followed by the waiter within instants. Noel didn’t even bother to stand up.

—Can I have gin and tonic?— he shouted from the bed, getting no response, which meant it was a yes. Then, he gazed down at his crotch. Something underneath the jean’s zip was a tad swollen and sore. It made him grin, thinking about the ways he will get that flat and relieved again that night. Right there in the living room. 

  
  
  
  


_ The first time he let his new friend feel him up, is still blurred and archived in the “I will revise this later” section of his memory. He was fucking biblical during the act though. Or at least that’s what he thought, out of his non-experienced status of mind.  _

_ He had let the Italian boy get him naked from tip to toe, sit him up a mid century style armchair and spread his legs wide. Liam couldn’t remember at what point they had agreed he would be the one taking it passively. If he had ever pictured himself before with another man, he had always reckoned his bottom would be left untouched. He had bragged about that with his brother so many times, made fun of him so many times that it felt rather ironic.  _

_ Nevertheless, soon he found himself being stretched out and shamelessly penetrated and exposed by one middle finger. His body shaped and adjusted within a mix of pain and a tickling sensation. Richard had used nothing else but spit to ease his way in, skillful and fast, like he had been taking the virginity of boys like him his whole life. He whispered love words close to his lips, mesmerized, glancing down at the part of Liam he was stimulating only to instantly feel the urge to kiss his mouth roughly. Liam wasn’t able, either willing to take the trouble to utter a word, he just couldn’t recall a time he had felt like that. Or he had been so hard, aching and stiff against his stomach.  _

_ Sometime in between being caressed, bitten and licked all over his skin, tossed around, firmly gripped by his hips and getting his back pressed down while fucked hard from behind, Liam fell in love. He had never felt that godlike as when his face was sunk against the armchair cushion, and his throat was sore for moaning and panting. He had been deprived of any hint of sanity or audacity by the dreamy boy he fancied, and it was something he couldn’t  wait to tell his brother. _

  
  
  


—You are gold.

—Gold.

—Glad that you’re bound to return.

—There’s something I could’ve learned.

—You’re indestructible, always believing.

Noel and Maxime were living for each other’s eyes. Talking the same dialogue over and over again. Clint thought they had lost their fucking common sense. His classic cinema films had never came close to abstract him from reality as much as those two were now. And maybe it frightened him. Though, that night was coming up with a surprise.

  
  
  


_ Richard had around six brothers, if Liam had counted them right. They were all males, all older than him and almost as charming and picturesque as him. The Burnage boy also admitted they knew how to have a laugh. The eldest, Andrea, was the manager of the workshop. Quite a loud and cheerful lad, always giving commands to his younger brothers in a half-Italian. half-English language he had created by himself. He treated Liam nice, as if he was very pleased to see him around often. Andrea also seemed extremely glad to clear up every doubt the boy could have about motorbike’s functioning and repairing, with a smug look in his face. Sometimes he reminded Liam of his middle sibling. _

_ Angelo and Amadeo were the ones who followed Andrea in age, but most people just called them AG and AD. Hard drinkers, even harder smokers. Gallagher couldn’t remember having ever seen them not wearing their oily coveralls. Moreover, they looked extremely similar to each other, almost like twins. AG and AD used to hang around with Richard most of the time, and happily accepted their new peer on their afternoons on the booze.  _

_ The three others were Alessandro, Arnaldo and Antoni. But that didn’t matter really. Liam would make out with his boyfriend whenever he wanted, whether there were six people watching or not. The workshop had a fantastic tiny back room, sometimes used as an office and most of the time as a storage room and love nest, with a huge fucking comfy armchair in it. Rick always went paranoid about not making noise and the more times he said it, the louder Liam will moan later. _

_ Right on top of the workshop, the whole family lived in an old, rented, classic six apartment. The home had a particularly weird atmosphere to it; fraught with family pictures, amateur paintings of the landscapes of a small coast village, saturated to its top with ornamentation and 60s idols memorabilia. Choose whatever room in the house, you would always be able to hear someone talking and laughing from there.  _

_ Just like in Liam’s case, Richard only had a mother, denied having a father. Like they had been born by magic. They were so similar about that, yet, that house was so different from his. Everybody lived there mixed, huddled, together. As a group and a totally different concept of family that he didn’t know how to understand yet, but seemed cosy and received him in a warm embrace. And somehow made his house feel too cold, colder than usual, when he came back. _

_ It was under the disturbing look of an Elvis poster that Liam sucked his boyfriend’s dick first.  Actually, sucked dick for the first time at all. He was a tad annoyed it hadn’t been his brother’s, as he had always thought would be the case. However, he forgot about it thinking how brilliant will be the face Noel would make once he told him. He would make sure to find the perfect moment, and most importantly, not to forget kissing Noel’s face really wet and hard with the same mouth.  _

_ Liam thought about all that with Richard’s big and throbbing member being one inch down his throat, hearing his mother argue with someone on the phone, and it was the second best moment of his life. Because he was in love. _

  
  
  


Yeah, Noel was feeling happy. Despite all those unacceptable thoughts that chased him and he didn’t know how to dodge anymore, he had found a little shelter. His endless quest for escaping and running away sometimes led him to beautiful places. Many other times, it was useless. He could’ve sworn his brother was an enormous and powerful magnet and he was made of iron. He could have been under the sea, and Liam would’ve dived in to find him. And in fact, Noel would’ve come back home.  

But right then, he was happy. Max’s necklace tasted like cold metal when he run his tongue along the boy’s neck. He could sense something growing bigger and harder against his thigh, and his lover was slightly blushing at his cheeks. Everything would be pretty much sorted out, Noel thought, if there were less people in the room. 

Just after Max had stopped trying to dissimulate his moans, Clint seemed to get the message. 

—Shit, it’s getting hot in here, isn’t it? I’m going out for a cig.

He crossed the entry door of his own house stepping out to the street. Needless to say, he received no answer from the inside. His favourite roadie was busy dragging Max’s cords down to his knees, directly proceeding to mind his pants, giving him a good firm spank on his arse cheek that turned bright red. The French boy nevertheless, giggled as he only knew how to, grinding his hips to put pressure on Noel’s crotch, making him smile and sigh.

—Get me naked Noel.

—You’re so fast to ask—Noel whispered, his voice sounding hoarse and aroused— Are you sure you want me to do so with Clint being around?

—There’s confidence. 

Max’s purple wool jacket was taken off and thrown to the ground. The guitarist held him as close as possible, kissing him with need breathing into the boy’s skin, stroking his whole body and slipping his hands under the t-shirt. Before he could get rid of that last piece of clothing as well, Max moved  his body down in really slow movements, staring into Noel’s eyes all the way. Keeping their eyes connected, he started kissing over Noel’s trousers, giving him a soft bite that made him twitch within pain and anticipation. 

—Is Clint talking with someone?— the waiter raised his head up suddenly looking at the door. 

—I can’t hear anything— Noel snorted trying to push Max’s head back down. He unzipped his own trousers with one quick hand, the head of his dick shamelessly popped out of his pants.

—Well I can hear it.

—Must be a neighbour then? His lover looked back at him, grinning, realising that at that point of that situation it was ridiculous to be prudish, and started doing his part. Noel used to never give him a hint of whether he was enjoying it or not.  He didn’t let a sound out of his mouth, only the rhythm of his breath and the tightening of his hand gripping Max’s hair betrayed him. Sometimes it became so rough, that it felt like he was going to tear out a strand. But that only turned the boy on more and more. 

And he arched his hips unconsciously, to find out how deep he could actually go, trying to  _ really  _ get deepthroated without having to ask, trying to hear the boy  _ gag,  _ and imagine it was his brother gagging instead. So he groaned in pleasure. He imagined he could see Liam vividly in front of his eyes, two warm blue irises and soft brown straight hair, realising he was actually miserable. Because it didn’t matter how much he could have, how big was the grip of this world’s glory he could get in his hand; he wanted more. 

—Lads!— he thought he could hear Clint shouting from the street —We’ve got visit! You’d better not be doing anything misplaced— he warned in a perverse tone. Max jumped from his lap like a spring, cleaning his mouth with his sleeve. 

—I told you! I had heard something!— he punched Noel’s chest softly but firm, never abandoning his French stoicism  and ability to keep his voice low even when shouting. 

—That’s my brother.

—How do you know that?

—Because it’s always him. Can’t be anyone else but him— he muttered, an anguish look on his face.

—You are raving mate.

Seconds after Maxime had to swallow his words, as it was in fact him. The whole pack actually, Liam, his sunglasses, his pink denim jacket, the odd cigarette held in his boyfriend’s ear and Clint Boon smiling like that was the best time of his life. Noel uttered a simple hello whilst Richard greeted everyone complying with all the formalities, handshakes and kisses on the cheek. Liam complimented Max’s jacket.


End file.
